


Brawl

by RelarOfFire



Category: Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss
Genre: Gen, blood mentions, general tavern like brawl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 14:34:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12301149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelarOfFire/pseuds/RelarOfFire
Summary: Someone from Kote's past comes in to get even and Kote handles the situation on his own. Well, mostly.





	Brawl

“You son of a bitch!”

Glass shattered loudly, cutting through the loud brawling in the main room of the inn. Chairs and tables screamed across the wood floors before toppling and crashing over, some cracking and breaking. Bottles and cups hit the floor, splintering and clanking before rolling through the thunderous shuffling of bodies. Shouting and screaming was booming, nearly echoing off the thick and wide room as the fight continued, several men in and others trying to pull apart the fight. None the less, alcohol and blood were a present smell over the wood polish and firewood that was there normally.

The inn was not silent. It was anything but.

“What? Can’t handle seeing me in person?” Kote chuckled snidely, unlike himself. A heavily sour smirk came to his face, cutting the line of blood dribbling down from his nose and down his chin. “Maybe I shoulda ha–” He was cut off with another punch to the face and slammed into the bar instead of the bottles.

A rally of shouting and cursing followed from usual patrons at the stranger, trying to rip them off of their kind and humble innkeeper they ‘knew’ so well. But, the attacker never let go, gripping the red head’s shirt and apron tighter with one hand, the other struggling to get out of two men’s grasps to get another punch in. 

“You  _know_  what you did! And now I know you’re here! You’re done for!” 

The innkeeper grit his teeth, letting out a grunt like snarl from behind clenched teeth. He could taste blood down the back of his throat, bruises already tender and coloring on his skin, and fingers tingling with a sensation he hadn’t had in so many years. Managing to get his hands up from being braced against the bar, Kote grabbed the hand holding onto him, throwing the other one up and trying to jam his fingers into the assailants eye.

With a scream, they let go to shook their head out, barely managing to look up and un-cup their hand from their slightly damaged eye to have the innkeepers fist slam into their gut. 

“Kote what he hell–!?”

“Who is this bastard!?”

“Kote, sir–!”

A flurry of similar shouts and questions followed as Kote grunted and hip threw the bastard as hard as he could. While he had been aiming for the floor, the attacker ended up on, over, and then off the bar, shattering a bar stool or two on his ass over tea kettle way down to the floor proper. More shouts of surprise and confusion were thrown to the air, shuffling and debate on what to do.

The innkeeper spat on the floor and wiped his sleeve across his bloody nose, blowing loose strands of messy red hair from his eyes as he maneuvered over the bar easy enough. Landing hard on his feet next to the attacker, who was slowly getting to their feet, Kote glared. “You come into my inn, in the middle of a fucking rush, and try to pick a fight!? Of all decent times, you couldn’t have picked a damn worse one.”

“Not like anything you did had perfect fuckin’ timing either.  _Bloodless_.” They spat, staggering and cracking their neck.

With such a title thrown around, the inn went quiet for a half moment, before whispers erupted and a bit of snide laughter. Him? Bloodless? The Kvothe bloodless? He was an innkeeper, and clearly bleeding! If an innkeeper could be Kvothe the Bloodless then half of them were immediately in line for the thrown! What a dumb thought, it was clear they were drunk and just picking fights – at least, so everyone there thought.

Kote’s blood ran cold, eyes widening for a small moment, before narrowing once more. “Oh, so it’s someone from then. I see.” He mumbled carefully, trying to remember faces and names

The attacker looked furious, “You don’t even have the decency to remember people who you screwed over?! You coward. You low life, two faced, terror!” 

“Is that all you have to say? If it is, I have to clean up your mess here and get back to work. I don’t care to associate with people like you, nor do I bother to remember simple jackasses.” Kote replied, trying to keep his slowly waning temper. His hands tingled, the feeling crawling from his fingertips to his palms to his wrists. No, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

They swung out at him again, only to find open air. But just once. While Kote had been an experienced fighter years ago, he was out of practice and slow now, so the kick to the knee sent him nearly toppling. Taking the opportunity, the attacker shifted their feet, turned their hips, and forcefully flat footed kicked Kote in the chest and at and upturned table.

Hitting the table, the innkeeper shouted in pain and crumpled, back crashing into one of the cross supports and shoulder hit just right to have his arm go numb for a moment. Grasping at his knee, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to stand quick enough before the next hit, gritting his teeth and managing to look up just in time to get a boot to the face. His head cracked against the wood floor, meeting spilled ale and shattered glass. His ears rang and the world spun for a moment, the smell of alcohol almost wanting to make him throw up and the sharp pain in the side of his face the only thing keeping him grounded from blacking out.

Several locals pulled Kote up to his feet by his shoulders and arms, holding him up steady as he tried to get himself together again. While others held back the attacker and shoved them as far to the other side of the room as they could mange against someone more skilled than themselves. 

“You’ll pay for what you’ve fucking done! Do you hear me?! All of this is your fault, you coward! How dare you hide in such a shitty place with such a shitty fucking excuse of a name!”

Kote blinked slowly and lifted his head, hair partially obscuring his vision and one eye kept shut to keep glass from entering his eye. “Coward?” He asked, “Can’t you people call me something else? I’ve heard more of that word from myself than the likes of you.”

“You piece of shit! How dare you claim to be a hero! Look at all you’ve destroyed and ruined!!”

“This guy is bat shit!” Aaron, the smith boy, hollered above all the other ruckus. Which, got everyone else in the room to agree and shout about how they were out of their damn mind and too drunk to be there anymore.

Though, it all fell silent. Almost as silent as it always was, if the attacker hadn’t been the only one stomping about and struggling still.

Spitting out blood from his mouth, Kote blinked slowly again and looked up to see Bast had arrived to the inn once more. He stood at the main door, alone, and silent. His presence was that of a human, as always around so many people. But what caused everyone to go quiet wasn’t his presence necessarily. His demeanor and the very aura he gave off caused everyone to go silent. It was cold and violent, like a storm. Louder than any shouting that could have gone on without saying or making a noise. It was cut throat and dry, suffocating and ripping away and all possible pride and ego from a man’s words just by the look on his face.

Well, and blade in his hands.

“All of you. Out.  _NOW_.” The fae demanded, voice easily carrying through the crowd and overpowering the thrashing and snapping individual trying to carry on the fight. “The inn is now closed and no one is allowed back in here for two days time.”

“But–” Someone tried.

Bast’s gaze flickered to the one speaking immediately, locking eyes and staring. “Did. I. Stutter? I said, everyone out. _Now_.” Walking into the inn slowly, his steps were soft and heard for once. As though he were stepping harder than usual on purpose to make his point. “I will start picking who leaves first by my own hand if you don’t all leave now.”

No one moved, and the attacker even stopped to watch the strange man enter and threaten so many people at once. 

Bast stopped behind the table Kote was propped partially against, lifting the sword and pointing the tip at the first person near by. “Maple,” and continued to point to each one with each word, “Maypole catch and carry. Ash and ember. Elderberry.” The sword ended up pointed at someone he and Kote knew rather well, but a wicked, toothy smile passed his face none the less. “Oh, what a shame.”

“Bast.” Kote snapped, side eyeing him.

Giving a sigh, the fae settled for lifting the sword above his head. With proper inhuman strength, he cut down against the table, wedging the sword too far down into it for anyone human to do. “Next verse, this is going to be someone’s body; may your petty Tehlu have mercy on your poorly atoned fucking souls.” He threatened.

As soon as the last words left, everyone scattered. Rightfully so, since their lives were on the line proper. Those who were nearest him scrambled for the back door through the kitchen, others closer to the door shoved over others to get out first and down the road as fast as they could get. The inn was cleared out in seconds. Including the person who had started the whole fight got away. 

But, not before Bast could get a good look at their face and the direction they were going…

Once everyone had cleared, Bast left the lodged sword in the table and grabbed onto Kote, holding him upright and immediately moving his bright hair and picking glass from his face. 

“Bast, you– argh!” Kote tried to argue, only stopped by glass tearing his face more as it was messed with.

“I don’t care. They will forget about it in less than a week. You humans blame everything on drinking and being excited.” The fae argued sharply, continuing to work. His eyes were still bright blue, like a cloudless spring day and clean water. A clear sign he was still not grounded and ready to break someone measly human in half if need be. 

Kote grunted and tried to shift his weight, knee giving out from the blow it received earlier and nearly dropping. If Bast hadn’t had an arm around his waist and holding him tight enough to keep still, he would have eaten more glass. 

Bast grumbled under his breath silently, picking glass from his friend and mentor’s face, trying to be tender and gentle. Thankfully he had nimble fingers, so it was no issue to get even the smaller bits out. “I’ll repair the table, and have the carpenter replace some of the chairs for being here tonight. He won’t argue. If I tell his wife he was in a brawl, she’ll make him do that, and some for free. And I’ll have –”

“Stop, stop, stop. Stop.” Kote nearly begged, exhausted and already having a hard enough time processing his own thoughts.

“What happened here? Who did this?” Bast pressed, glancing around to finally see the whole extent of the damage. Most of the tables had some form of damage, chairs as well. The floor and bartop was littered in cups, plates, glass, and food. The racks behind the bar were mostly empty, bottles either shattered or cracked on the floor, or about to roll off their shelves to join the others. There was blood splatter here and there as well, though shifting with the flows of alcohol leaking about.

Kote shook his head and grunted in pain, closing his eyes tightly for a moment with his throbbing headache. “I don’t want to talk about it… Just…”

“Reshi–”

“I don’t–”

“KVOTHE.” Bast snapped, holding him tighter and grabbing his face with his free hand. Making Kote look at him, Bast took a deep breath and spoke again, more quietly. “Tell me. What. Happened. Please.”

Kote grimaced and hissed as he was squeezed and made to look at Bast. Everything hurt, he was tired, and he just wanted to sleep. He wanted to lay down and remember to ignore the world. “…Someone came in… claiming they knew me. Things got out of hand and they decided the best course of action was to beat what they wanted to hear out of me.”

“I can clearly see that much. Did you know them?”

“Not that I can remember… And I remember things well enough. So it had to be someone connected to someone else or I’ve forgotten.” Kote explained, speaking and breathing more evenly as time went on. Less light headed and the tingling away, he felt like he was going to pass out instead of do something reckless.

Bast was quiet for a long moment, before nodding. “Right. Well, I’ll get all this fixed up in the next few days. I promise. You aren’t going to do anything but keep in your room and rest – after I patch you up, okay? Everything is going to be fine. They won’t come back here after that.” 

Kote gave a half chuckle, “Neither would I. You nearly chopped a table in half with a sword, Bast. I’d shit myself and pray to Tehlu as well that you never look at me.”

The fae gave a proud smile, “Well, someone has to be able to keep strangers in line. And I don’t see you even able to keep one from fighting you.”

“Ha, ha, ha. You’re lucky I didn’t put beets into dinner…”

“Yes, yes I am. Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. I’ll clean this up after you’re settled.” Bast replied, looping his arm around Kote in a more supporting manner for walking instead of holding as he helped the innkeeper hobble upstairs and to his room. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank for reading!! If you enjoyed this, let me know by hitting the kudo button or commenting below! Want more KKC oriented stuff? Follow my kkc blog: kote-the-inn-keeper.tumblr.com ! Thanks for reading <3


End file.
